Time Heals All Wounds
by IantojJackh
Summary: Can time heal all wounds? Depends on what you do to time. Especially if you are an ex-time agent with a now working vortex manipulator. Where and when did Jack end up after he returned from 2001? Post-CoE. Non-MD world.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Time Heals All Wounds (1/3)

**Summary**: Does time really heal all wounds? Depends on what you do to time.

**Rating**: M for adult content and drug/alcohol use

**Characters**: Jack

**Warnings**: Prostitution, drugs, alcohol and sex

**Spoilers/Timeline**: Four years post-CoE. MD has no place here.

**Beta**: ******czarina_kitty**. Thank you for all your help. Your insight helped tie everything together in a nice little bow

**Word Count**: 2567

**Notes**: This was written for the prostitution prompt in ******hc_bingo**. Also a big thank you to ******darkwingduckie7** who gave me the original idea for this story way back when.

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**Time Heals All Wounds **

Jack stared blearily at the date on his watch: 19 August 2013. Ever since leaving the godforsaken planet Earth, three and a half years ago, he kept track of Earth time just to remind him how he failed everyone that meant the most to him. Jack got through most days by pushing his feelings deep inside, ignoring the emptiness that was always ready to pounce the moment he let his guard down. This time of year was always the hardest, the weeks between Ianto's birthday and death. "Happy Thirtieth Birthday, my heart," Jack whispered as he raised his glass of hypervodka and downed it in one gulp. "Only the good die young," he added, nodding toward to the barkeep to refill his glass.

"Humans normally don't have that high of tolerance for hypervodka," the hot pink-scaled lizard humanoid barkeep spoke as he poured Jack his third drink of the night. The creature's tongue slithered about as its eyes fell upon the wrist strap. "Time Agent. Don't get too many of your kind around here."

"Ex-Time Agent," Jack corrected. "Besides this thing doesn't work." There was no life left in the immortal's voice.

"I know someone who can fix it," the creature offered. "See who ever it is that has you drinking one last time. That is, if you want to see them."

The idea appealed to Jack for only the briefest of moments. If he were to see Ianto one last time, Jack doubted he would be able to let go. Never mess with time lines. He would give anything to have one last moment with the unforgettable Welshman, to apologize for being the worst sort of arse in the days leading to his death. To tell him that he loved him more than he had loved any one being and how his death has left him a shell of a person even four years later. "No thank you," his words said no, but his voice said yes. Just imagining the Welsh vowels rolling off Ianto's tongue was enough to send shivers down Jack's spine.

The lizard tongue of the barkeep slithered and made a low hissing sound. "You don't sound convinced. Ursateddysaurbulba, a Time Agent needs your help fixing his wrist thing."

"No!" Jack asserted, knowing he would not be able to trust himself with the ability to time travel.

"Don't be a silly, Kilovic. Those are rare commodities no matter what time you are from. If you don't need it, I know of people who would play plenty for that." The lizard's face started to glow a neon colour, a trait in their species that was a tell-tale sign they were excited.

Jack clamped his hand over his wrist. "No," he shouted. There were plenty of personal things on his manipulator that he would never give up. Pictures. Videos. Voice recordings. It had been a long time since he looked or heard any of them. It was too painful. Once he took the trip down memory lane, Jack doubted he would want to return.

"Suit yourself," the barkeep shook his head in disappointment. "You are a strange one. I know you Time Agents are not supposed to change time, but isn't there someone or something you'd like to see one last time." The lizard creature saw the flash in his patron's eyes. "So there is... Ursa, here now. Fix this now. His words say no, but his eyes say yes."

Jack could only glare. Deep down, he realized that he needed this and somehow he could find closure. Five words could give the much-needed closure: _I love you, Ianto Jones._

Once his vortex manipulator was fixed, Jack just stared at it for a good hour. He pondered where and when he could go. The longer he thought on it, maybe this was the time and place he should stay.

"You are staying here after we fixed it for you? What is keeping you?" the slimy barkeep asked.

"Memories," Jack answered without emotion.

"Then I have what you are looking for." The barkeep reached under the bar and pulled out a box with an assortment of pills. "If memories are giving you a problem, then these are exactly what you need."

Jack eyed the drugs before him and did not take much time before he downed four pills with another hypervodka. The effects were almost immediate and all the tension melted away. Recreational drug use was not something to be taken lightly and was something he had not done in a long time.

"Wish me luck," Jack offered a fake smile as his fingers made the decision of where to visit. A place he ran little to no risk of crossing anyone in his time line.

London, late summer 2001. The twenty-first century was when it was all supposed to change. It was easy get lost in the hustle. Easy to blend in. Well, blend in as easy as a man wearing a long greatcoat in the middle of a heat wave and reeking of fifty-first century sexual pheromones could.

With the hypervodkas and opiates numbing all pain, Jack was ready to have fun and delve into the dark underbelly of the city. Stave Hills' dirty little late night secret; an excellent spot to pick up whatever your sexual deviation. This was a safe time and place to be, no risk of crossing his timeline. There was something about the drugs flowing through Jack that made him hornier than he could remember. Jerking off did not have the desired effect. This would be the first time since Ianto that he sought out sexual relief not by his own hand. He was going to hate himself in the morning, but the path to destruction had already been paved.

As Jack walked down the dimly lit alley, he noticed how young they all looked. Some were probably not of legal age. He knew he was definitely going down a dangerous path but the consequences were the furthest thing from his mind. He passed several men who seemed too eager to offer their services and normally that would have been what Jack went for, but he was not in the mood. Several meteres from where most were standing, there was a lone figure; looking shy and almost nervous. There was something about his stance that was familiar and Jack was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"How much?" Jack asked in a gruff tone. He was unable to make out what the other man looked like because of the faint lighting and the drugs altering his perception .

"I...I," the voice stuttered, with an obvious fake London accent. Something drew him to the intoxicating stranger. "Nice aftershave," the nervousness started to diminish and the boy ran his hand along the stranger's chest, fingers curling around the braces.

"Not wearing any," Jack replied cheekily.

"You smell like that naturally?"

Jack took a shaky breath, the conversation a little too familiar for comfort. "How much?" he lowered his voice, not wanting to talk more than needed.

"Seventy quid." The uncertainty was back, as if the rent boy was new to this. His hands were shaking. "Is that too much?" a hint of his real accent surfaced. He mentally cursed himself for letting that slip when the boy saw Jack flinch at the change in his voice.

"You're Welsh, aren't you?" the immortal asked. Having spent as much time as he did in Wales, Jack would know the accent anywhere.

"No!" the rent boy covered, using the London accent again.

"Whatever you say," Jack replied. He knew he should not have struck up a conversation with the prostitute he was about to hire. Although there was something about the mystery person that Jack could not put his finger on. Something almost magnetic.

"Where do we go?" the hint of Welsh was back. "Cachu. I'm sorry, sir. Some of the other boys said most patrons wouldn't go for me if they knew I was Welsh." He stuttered in a mixed London-Welsh accent and shifted from foot to foot, hopeful the man could not see his face clearly and the nervousness that was written all over it.

Jack grinned, "I'm not most people, or so I've been told. I lived in Cardiff for a long time." There was a fond, but sad tone to the comment. "This is your first time doing this, isn't it?"

"F...ffffffirst time anyone approached me." The rent boy stuttered slightly.

"Shhh," Jack hushed, putting cupping the boy's face between his hands, still unable to see the face clearly. "It's okay," he whispered, taking money from his pocket and handing it over. "Come with me." Jack offered his hand. The spark was almost immediate, the older man jumped, and his body began to tremble.

"Are you okay?" It was the rent boy's turn to ask questions. "Now you are acting like it's your first time."

Jack froze, every muscle tightening up. "Not exactly. But it has been a while." There was a distinct uncertainty to his voice. _ I can't do this to him. I can't do this to Ianto's memory. _

The young man obviously sensed something was off and he stopped, as if deciding if he should run or not. He started to think that the stranger could be dangerous. "You are having second thoughts because I'm Welsh aren't you?"

"Not at all." Jack sighed and scuffed his boots around the ground. "A few years ago I lost someone who means the world to me. Someone I loved...still love to this day. Today is his thirtieth birthday and he was Welsh, by the way. Sexiest voice I've ever heard."

The rent boy nodded, realizing he was a substitute for this person's lost lover. "He's dead?" Small talk seemed to pass the time as they walked toward a nearby hotel.

"Yes," Jack said quietly, not wanting to talk about it anymore. He cursed his mind that it kept defaulting to Ianto. "Almost four years," his voice was shaky and Jack swallowed hard to make sure he did not start crying.

The young man took that as a cue not to question any further and remained silent until the door closed in the paid for room. Whomever his client was grieving for, he still loved completely to be this messed up over four years later. The rent boy thought it would be nice to have someone love him that much that his death had such a profound and lasting effect.

Jack quickly discarded his clothes, leaving everything in a messy pile on the floor.

"Come here," a naked Jack beckoned from the bed. "What are you doing?" he asked, watching the boy neatly fold his clothes. He only knew one other person that was OCD enough to fold his clothes before sex.

"I just can't throw my clothes to the ground. What is so funny?" the young man asked when he heard laughter. His face paled for when he realized that the man on the bed looked quite drunk and/or high. It was not obvious before and now the rent boy was scared at what he had gotten himself into, but he sensed a kindness that made him feel everything was going to be okay.

Jack watched as the beautiful creature got undressed, his arousal growing as each piece of clothing was removed. The soft pale skin cried out to be touched, to be cherished. He started to stroke himself, his hand moving rhythmically with his breaths. Soon his hand was covered by another.

"Let me take care of that." The fake accent had been dropped to Jack's delight and he leaned his head back, moaning as the skillful hands worked him over and the voice drowned out all other noise. It was as if Jack was transported back to a time before all the pain started. "I'm sorry. So...so sorry," his voice cracked as tears started to fall.

"There is nothing to be sorry for," the rent boy reached up and brushed away Jack's tears.

"He's gone and there is nothing I can do that will bring him back. I'd do anything to have him back, to let him know that I loved him too." There was something freeing about offloading your inner demons to a stranger and the drugs and alcohol helped too.

"Shhh," the young man hushed his upset client. "I'll make your pain go away." He pressed lips against Jack's. Soon the kiss melted into an intense hungry melding of lips, tongue and teeth.

Jack took control of the situation, flipping and pinning the young man under him. For a moment he stared at the beauty under him, seeing the face he wanted to see. The face he missed every day for the last four years.

Jack started with lips to the neck, slowly moving to nibble on an ear. "It's all my fault. You trusted me. You always trusted me no matter what." Jack moved to the chest, nipping as he made his way down lower. He paused as an all too familiar scent invaded his senses.

"I should never have let you come to Thames House with me. I was careless. They used a virus before. Should have known they'd use one again." Jack flicked his tongue over the smooth hipbones as his hands ran through the fine chest hair.

Tears splashed against the pale skin of the rent boy. Jack nipped at the smooth inner thighs. Everything about the young man reminded Jack of what he had lost. The feel of his skin, his scent and every other little thing made him think of his Ianto.

"I love you." His tongue flicked at the tip of the rent boy's pre-cum slicked penis. "I love you Ianto Jones so..." Jack felt a sudden and excruciating pain grip his chest. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the confused expression of the other man in bed.

"What am I going to do?" the hysterical man moved and cradled a limp Jack in his arms. He felt for a pulse and everything started to spin when there was none to be found. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to do it. Great going, you kill your first client. I'm in so much trouble. How do you know my name? I never told you my name." The tears flowed and with each passing second, the rent boy got more hysterical and did not notice what happened next. He did not think it could get any worse, leaving home six months ago after his father died. Shoplifting only provided minimal aid to survive on the streets. If he wanted a life off the streets, he felt selling his body was his only option to better himself. There was not much of a market for a scrawny, awkward looking boy who just turned eighteen but could pass for fourteen. Some of the other boys tried to use that to their advantage, but his scathing wit and surprising physical strength kept him from being messed with.

Jack gasped back to life, feeling a bit disoriented but he was comforted by the familiar and comforting embrace. "Ianto, what happened?" He clung to his lover's arm.

"How do you know my name?" An eighteen year old Ianto Jones was very scared and disturbed at this moment.

**To be continued...Chapter 2 up tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Time Heals All Wounds (2/3)

**Summary**: Does time really heal all wounds? Depends on what you do to time.

**Rating**: M for adult themes

**Characters**: Jack and Ianto

**Warnings**: Prostitution, some foul language

**Word Count**: 1658

**Spoilers/Timeline**: Four years post-CoE. MD has no place here.

**Beta**: ******czarina_kitty**. Thank you for all your help. Your insight helped tie everything together in a nice little bow

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**Chapter 2**

Now that the alcohol and drugs were no longer altering Jack's perception of things, he realized that they might not ever have been skewed. '_Fuck_.' Jack muttered to himself as he stared in the familiar set of blue eyes he never thought he would see again.

"Hello,"Jack said, trying to hide how freaked out he was.

"Hello?" Ianto voice cracked in disbelief. "You were dead and then you came back and you just hello me like nothing happened. What did you do to me? How do you know my name?" He didn't bother to use a fake accent anymore. He was scared, confused and a bunch other things Ianto could not comprehend.

Jack knew he should not be amused by this, but it was just like Ianto to scold him for his nonchalantness and this one did not even know him. He knew he had to keep his cool despite how bad the situation was. "How could I have died and come back to life? That is not possible." Jack's heart skipped a beat at the eye roll. "Coincidence?" Jack did not remember calling out Ianto's name, but he must have.

As much as he would have loved to stay forever in Ianto's lap, Jack knew he had to fix the situation before there was irreparable damage to the time line.

"Coincidence?" Ianto did not sound convinced as he watched the older man get out of the bed and put as much distance between them as possible.

"Yes. It's not like you are the only one with that name." Jack could not meet Ianto's eyes. It tore at his soul to act as if Ianto was not one of a kind, even if he was only talking about names. "My mouth is feeling a bit dry. Is yours? Do you want something to drink? Water good for you?" Jack was truly a master of distraction and prayed there was still some Retcon in his pocket.

"Water is good." Ianto's eyes carefully studied the man who was getting stranger by the second. "So your dead boyfriend has the same name as me?"

"Yeah. You got a problem?" Jack hid how it hurt to act disinterested. He bent down and picked up his trousers, which he used as a chance to grab the Retcon from his coat pocket.

"No. No problem." The younger Ianto was not sure of the assertion. He felt the older man was holding something important back and gave Jack a hard glare, not yet knowing how effective it was on Jack, but he did not see it as all Ianto saw was the well-toned rear disappearing into the bathroom.

"Tell me a bit about yourself, Ianto." Jack already knew most of the story, but he just wanted to hear the intoxicating voice one last time.

"I'm not much of a talker, sir. I don't want to spill my story to a stranger even if he paid for my services," Ianto fidgeted, debating if he should run. It would take time to put his clothes back on and something told him that the man would give chase.

Jack laughed to himself, having heard the same line on several occasions especially when Jack tried to coax a bedtime story out of the exhausted Welshman.

_"Please, just a small little story. Pretty please." Jack put on his best pleading face._

_"Jack, I'm exhausted. I'm not much of a talker as you know, so stories aren't my thing. Can we just go to bed now?" Ianto whined and yawned to show how tired he was._

_"Just one little short one. I'll make it worth your while," a wild grin lit up the dark room and Jack's hands mapped out the body it knew so well._

_Ianto groaned, biting his lip and rolling his eyes. "You are incorrigible. Okay a short one." He swore Jack was a child at times as his eyes lit up with glee when he got his way. "There once was this sexy captain who refused to let his better half get any sleep. Then the sexy captain became grumpy because coffee and sex left the land until he let the prince get some sleep. The end."_

Jack teared up at the lost memory that suddenly came to the surface. He quickly dried any hint of shed and unshed tears as the last of the Retcon dissolved.

"One glass of water as ordered." Jack handed over the Retcon laced drink.

"Thank you, sir," Ianto said nervously as he took the glass and slowly sipped from it. "I'm not sure this is right...doing this."

"It's not," Jack answered quickly. _You are capable of so much more_.

The more Ianto drank from the glass the odder he felt, as if the drink was drugged. "Oh, God. You poisoned me." Tears started to fall as Ianto's legs went wobbly. "Please don't kill me." Ianto dropped the empty glass onto the floor. He was supposed to live past his eighteenth birthday. "Nice birthday gift. Tell my family I love them." His eyes started to close.

"I could never kill you. I love you." Jack knew his words would come off as if he was crazy.

"I don't even know you. Please don't do this." Ianto stumbled as he tried to walk to the door.

Jack caught Ianto before he fell. "You aren't going to die. You just can't remember tonight. We aren't supposed to meet until five years from now. I can't change the timeline no matter how much I still need you in my life." He placed a kiss on Ianto's lips just before he lost consciousness. Jack could only pray that nothing would trigger what he revealed before he knew he had accidentally picked up a younger Ianto.

Jack carried the unconscious teenager to the bed and place him down gently. "Everything is going to be okay now." Against better judgment, Jack climbed into bed. He wanted to give himself one last chance to hold the love of his life. It did not take long for Jack to slip into a restful slumber. The first one in many years.

When Jack woke the next morning his head was pounding and his head a bit fuzzy. It was not just the previous evening that was fuzzy. He wondered if this was the after effects of the drugs and hypervodkas. Despite the fact that mixture on top of sex gave him a heart attack and his system was clean of the substances. His last clear memory was Rhys telling him and Ianto the beans were almost done. There was only one thing to explain the fuzzy memory. Retcon? Had he retconed himself and this was the result? It was as if everything else was in flux.

"No." He shook his head. "You retconed him," Jack whispered to himself as he watched the sleeping form in the bed. Preservation of the timeline was most important no matter how much it hurt. "I'll always love you, my precious Ianto. If I don't say it to you in the future, I hope you know I always did and always will. You are a one in a trillion find."

Jack knelt down beside the bed as tears rolled down his face. Saying goodbye was not going to be easy. It was not easy the first time and the second time was worse. He gave the love of his life one last kiss, making it memorable. "I'll never forget you." Jack stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes.

There was one thing Jack needed to do before he left. He transferred some money from one of Torchwood's hidden accounts to set up a scholarship for Ianto, anonymous of course. In his mind, he was not altering the timeline, but fulfilling it. There was no way this Ianto would end up being the man he knew if he kept down this dangerous path. The lost teenager needed a small nudge in the right direction and Jack's heart could not let him stand idly by as its other half suffered.

When he was ready to leave, Jack flipped open his wrist strap and his fingers took over as they punched in his destination back to the freighter he had left the previous evening. It was time to numb the excruciating pain he had caused himself. The unsteady man closed his eyes as the vortex pulled him in. Once the sensation stopped, Jack slowly opened his eyes after not hearing anything. Something was not right. It was too quiet to be a bar and the sight before him confirmed that.

"Nooooo!" Jack gasped. "Not Cardiff. Anywhere but here." Confused as ever, Jack took in his surroundings. He was in a very large flat; with floor to ceiling windows, that over looked the bay. He wondered why his vortex manipulator bought him here and not back to the freighter. Jack was sure he put in the right time/space coordinates to return him to where he was before his trip into the past. Further investigation revealed baby bottles on the kitchen counter. Jack was sure he was going to be met with the confused and possibly armed owner of the flat and knew he needed to get out quickly. As Jack turned on his heel to leave, the world around him started to spin and he gripped the counter to keep himself from falling.

He did not hear the bedroom door open and someone approach, so when a hand was placed on his back; Jack nearly jumped out of his skin and on instinct and drew his Webley.

"Where the hell have you been? Put that away." The gun was pulled from Jack's limp hand and slammed on the counter. "You're gone for three days and finally come home and pull a gun on me. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jack was on the receiving end of a hard slap across the face.

**To be continued. Last chapter up tomorrow!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Time Heals All Wounds (3/3)

**Summary**: Does time really heal all wounds? Depends on what you do to time. Where and when did Jack end up after he returned from 2001?

**Rating**: M for adult themes

**Characters**: Jack and ?

**Warnings**: None

**Word Count**: 2498

**Spoilers/Timeline**: No spoilers, but read to find out where Jack went

**Beta**: ******czarina_kitty**. Thank you for all your help. Your insight helped tie everything together in a nice little bow.  
**Notes**: This fic filled the prostitution prompt in ******hc_bingo**. Thank you for all of you that have followed this crazy journey. I hope you enjoy the conclusion.

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**Chapter 3 **

"Ianto?" Jack asked with uncertainty, holding his sore cheek. Was this a hallucination? Why was his mind still torturing him? The slap felt too real to be made up in his mind.

"Who else?" There was the classic eye roll and sigh of frustration. "Were you expecting someone else? Rhi was right, wasn't she? It was only a matter of time before you got tired of this life. I didn't expect it to be so soon." Ianto ran his hand through his hair, making it even more wild than it already was.

"What? No." Jack threw his arms around Ianto and held on as tight as he could without breaking any ribs. He knew this was not a good sign. Having Ianto here was good for him, but it was not supposed to be like this. He made sure he gave the eighteen year old enough Retcon so he would not remember the evening. When exactly did he remember? Or was it still before the 456 and this flat was the only thing different. How could he ask without making Ianto suspicious? '_Bed head is so sexy on him.' _Jack grinned to himself.

Ianto struggled to free himself of Jack's grasp but he was holding too tight. The last month of their relationship had been the roughest of the six years they had been together. There were almost daily fights that always ended up with one of them in tears, but they never went to bed mad until Jack disappeared three days ago. Ianto stopped struggling when he felt tears on his shoulder.

"What's going on, Jack?" Ianto asked, sensing something had changed with Jack.

"You're here. That's all that matters. You are here and you are alive," Jack said with amazement. He pulled away and put on his million-watt smile.

Ianto silently cursed the power of that smile, but he resolved to not let his anger be tempered. "Where else would I be? Where have you been? I know things haven't been great between us lately, but I thought you would have showed at the party last night since it was originally your idea." Ianto rolled his eyes at the confused look on Jack's face. "Thirtieth birthday party. Remember? It was your idea."

Jack closed his eyes as the revelation hit him; he had changed the time line after making sure that could not happen. Of course, memories could always be recovered by certain triggers. He had been in too much of a panic when he realized that the prostitute he picked up was a younger version of the man he had been grieving to remember Ianto had an eidetic memory. What was the trigger that made Ianto remember? Was it the reviving in his arms? Was it Thames House? Or was it something else. "You remembered?"

"Remembered what?" Ianto was clearly trying not to sound annoyed and perturbed by the vagueness of the question.

"That night in London in 2001."

"What are you talking about? I didn't meet you until 2006." Ianto wondered if the years had finally caught up with Jack and he lost his mind. It would explain his sudden disappearance.

Jack scratched his head in confusion. If Ianto did not remember that night then how did he survive the 456? "What about the 456? What happened at Thames House?"

"Okay, you are scaring me now, Jack. Let's sit down. You know that happened. Everyone died except for you." Ianto hid the panic in his voice. Rhiannon was due in an hour or so and he didn't want her to see Jack like this. As the couple sat, Ianto put a comforting hand on Jack's back. If there was something wrong with Jack then they would get through this together.

"Just humour me, please?" Jack was desperate for answers.

"The panic attack. Don't you remember? Don't know why it happened. I just felt going in there was wrong."

Jack's hands started to shake. Ianto did not remember being picked up twelve years ago, not that Ianto ever mentioned ever selling himself for money either. Something had to trigger for him to know enough not to go to Thames House, but not everything else from that night in 2001. It was just another mystery of retcon's effect on memory and the human brain. Jack was not in the mood to talk anymore and he was going to savour having Ianto back in his life. "I love you, Ianto. Love you so very, very much."

Ianto had not seen that look of pure love and desire in Jack's eyes in a long time and he sorely missed it. "What happened to..." He was silenced when Jack placed a finger over his lips, which then was quickly replaced by his mouth. Things quickly progressed from there and in no time the men were tangled in each other, the smell of sweat and sex hanging in the air.

Almost an hour later, the two satiated men laid in each other's arms, Jack's head resting on Ianto's shoulder watching his chest rise and fall. Ianto noticed his lover was being unusually quiet. It seemed Jack was beyond content as his fingers trailed up and down Ianto's chest, enjoying the simple intimate moment.

"Jack, something bad happened didn't it?" Ianto's brow creased with worry as he ran his fingers through Jack's hair. He knew well enough when something serious was weighing heavily on his lover's mind.

"But I fixed it," a lump got caught in the back of the immortal's throat. A few tears slipped down his face landing on Ianto's chest. 'But I didn't mean to.' It was beyond words to be in the arms of his other half again, but in the back of Jack's mind he wondered what consequences there would be because he inadvertently changed the timeline.

"What are you talking about?" Ianto whispered as he placed a kiss on top of Jack's head. Somehow, this man seemed different from the one who left three days ago. He could see the pain in his eyes and Ianto did not know what caused it. "What happened to you?"

"I don't know. I did something I shouldn't have. It's right up there with never messing with the rift." Jack did not know where to begin, what he remembered of the last four years was vastly different from what Ianto remembered.

"What did you do, Jack? Crap, you didn't. Were you that tired of us that you need to have your needs fulfilled elsewhere?" Ianto was fuming, thinking after all the years of monogamy that Jack had enough of it.

"What? I didn't do anything like that. God, no, Ianto. I would never do that to you...to us." Jack was offended that Ianto thought that, but then again he did not know what problems there were in their relationship. How would he even begin to explain the truth?

"Then what happened?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me you used to sell yourself on the streets of London?" Jack knew this was the wrong way to tell the truth but it would be easier if Ianto remembered it and had what at the time was a non-biased opinion of him.

Ianto froze and quickly sat up, throwing Jack off him. "Is that why you've been acting weird the last month? You found out about that? My failed attempt to survive in London on my own. What does that have to do with any of this?"

"It has everything to with this. It's why I'm here right now." Jack was purposely cryptic. He wanted to try to push Ianto to remember on his own.

"How so? I was only picked up once and I don't even remember it. The man must have drugged me."

"Like being retconned?" Jack ran his hands over his face, taking in a deep shaky breath.

"Like being...no, Jack, you didn't. Why are you telling me this now?" That answer could only mean one thing, that Jack was that man twelve years ago. The night that was a total blur and he could never remember anything other than leaving his room that night and waking up in a hotel the next morning. But why would he Retcon him if they had not met yet or did something happen that he should not have seen.

"For me it only happened last night."

"That's impossible. That thing doesn't work like that anymore. Why would you do something like that?" Ianto pointed to the leather strap on Jack's wrist.

"I was in a very bad place and deep down you know why. You might not remember the whole night, but some things from that night managed to stick with you."

"Like what?"

"Thames House."

"Why are you bringing that up again?"

Before Jack could respond, there was a loud knock at the door. Given the nature of the conversation, Ianto would have ignored the door but that was not an option at this point.

"That would be Rhi. Put some clothes on." Ianto tossed Jack's trousers in his face. "My sister." The annoyance came through loud and clear when Ianto saw the older man's confused face.

"I know who your sister is." Jack tried not sound defensive, but they needed to finish the conversation and a visit from Ianto's sister was the last thing they needed. "I think finishing this conversation is more important than a little visit."

Ianto rolled his eyes as he pulled his pair of sleeping bottoms on. "I left Franklin with her last night. She's bringing him home."

Jack looked panic stricken and he remembered the baby bottles in the kitchen. So he and Ianto had a son sometime recently and apparently named him after his father. "Shit," he let the foul language slip out and saw the anger again in Ianto's eyes.

Suddenly, Jack felt very shaky and went very pale. "I'm just going to splash some water on my face." He made a hasty exit to the loo and he made it barely as Jack heaved into the toilet.

Ianto hung his head and rubbed his temples, not sure what just happened. Not to mention his attempt to comprehend the role Jack played in his deepest secret. He opened the door and tried to put on his best smile for his sister.

"Bloody hell, you look like shite, Ianto. Did you get any sleep last night?" Rhiannon did not even greet with a hello and she groaned when she saw the clothes on the floor. "So the jerk finally came home and you just welcomed him home like nothing." She pointed to the bruise that was starting to show on his neck.

"Rhi, I'm not in the mood for an argument. Thank you for watching Franklin last night. Jack and I are working through our problems." It was Ianto's polite way of saying this was none of her business.

"You're my brother and I'm worried about you. With all the problems you and Jack have been having are you sure adopting a baby was a smart move?" Rhiannon wanted to make sure this innocent baby was not subject to a childhood like she and Ianto had; parents who were constantly fighting.

"Every couple has rough patches. Jack and I are no exception, isn't that right Franklin?" Ianto reached into the pram and ran his finger along the sleeping infant's cheek. This was one of the moments Ianto regretted that he and Jack used the lie that their son was adopted. Rhiannon was not ready for the truth that Jack was the one who carried the boy to term and the boy was biologically his and Jack's.

"Jack and I still love each other and we will..." Ianto's statement was cut off by a loud crash from the bathroom.

"Stay with him," Ianto barked orders at his sister as he dashed to the source of the sound.

Ianto gasped as he saw Jack seizing on the floor, his head hitting the hard tile. Any anger and confusion vanished as he got onto the floor and placed Jack's head in his lap. "Jack! Jack! Jack, can you hear me?"

A minute later, (even though it felt like an eternity to Ianto) Jack finally stopped seizing and fell limp into Ianto's lap.

"Christ, is he okay? I'm going to call 999," Rhiannon had seen the tail end of the seizure and ignored the fact that Jack was naked.

"No, don't. Jack'll be fine." Ianto glared at his sister. It was a good thing Jack was still breathing and he would not have to explain Jack gasping back to life. "Jack. Come on, wake up." He lightly slapped Jack's face, trying to wake him up. That was life with an immortal; you still worried when things happened even if rationally you knew they would be fine.

"He had a seizure, Ianto. A doctor should check him out," Rhiannon begged and started to rock the pram when Franklin started to fuss.

"I'm fine," Jack said as he tried to sit up, but the vertigo was too great Yes, Ianto's lap made a fine pillow. He gripped his lover's wrist for support. "Think I need to stay here a few minutes." Jack managed his best flirty grin, inappropriate yes, but inappropriate was his middle name.

"Okay..." Ianto froze when he felt the squeeze on his wrist and his and Jack's eyes locked. His own light eyes dilated as a torrent of memories flooded his brain. After all this time, the memories from that night were remembered.

"Ianto?" Jack tried to snap the man out of the daze he was in. When the tears started to fall from the young man's face Jack forced himself to sit up despite the waves of dizziness.

"Ianto, what's wrong?" The concerned captain took Ianto's face in his hands, trying to figure what was wrong.

"I remember, Jack." Ianto pulled Jack into the tightest embrace possible. "I remember that night in London. You were so broken." Numerous times during the last month, Ianto had questioned whether Jack really loved him and now with the memories recovered he knew just how much Jack cared.

"I don't want to be broken anymore." Jack started to cry as well. His emotions started to overwhelm him as he felt the twinges of real hope in years.

"We will put each other back together. You mean the world to me too," Ianto whispered to Jack. "Let me introduce you to our son." He ignored the confused look Rhiannon's face. Ianto knew that if Jack had changed the timeline, that the new memories might not have all hit him yet.

"We'll tell you about it one day," Ianto winked at his sister.

There was a smile on Jack's face that did not leave for two weeks straight. After four years of pain and devastation, domestic bliss did wonders for Jack's battered soul. If and when the repercussions of changing the timeline struck, Jack and Ianto would be ready. For now, they enjoyed their strengthened and tighter relationship and the insanity and pride that being parents gave them.

**The end!**

End note: I hope you enjoyed this ending. Thank you for taking the journey with me. I know I might have fudged around with the timelines of the show, but it was to make this work.


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